Joined
by Sensara
Summary: Weyoun left Worf's interrogation to Damar and took Ezri for himself. Ezri/Weyoun, and kind of dark. Rated T for safety.


_**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm delving into a very odd pairing here, so heads up. It gets weird.**_

"We will secure the prisoners below-they will share a cell. They may wish to...physically comfort each other on the long trip back to Cardassia."

He smiled smugly as the Trill's eyes were cast downward demurely. Oh, how he hoped she wasn't demure when it came to the Klingon beside her...

"I find inter-species mating rituals fascinating to watch."

His attention turned to the Klingon when Worf made to step forward, but he was stopped immediately by one of the Breen. The Jem'Hadar carried him away, and he watched the Trill pass him. He breathed in right as she brushed his shoulder and was surprised to find she smelled strangely...good. She had a woodsy scent about her, earthy, yet very subtle. He found he liked it...

He turned around to watch her go, his thoughts still focused on her smell. It surprised him how enticing it was considering she had spent the last few days in a Breen holding cell. Nevertheless, he couldn't shake the thought from his mind...

"Interesting device," said Damar, shaking him from his thoughts.

"Oh, I am so sorry, where are my manners?" Weyoun exclaimed. "Allow me to introduce Legate Damar, leader of the Cardassian Union. Thot Gor."

"Thot. That's the equivalent of a Legate, isn't it?"

The Breen protested and Weyoun laughed as their new ally stalked off.

"What did he say?"

"He says you need to have your Universal Translator adjusted."

"I would have, if I had known we were meeting with the Breen."

Weyoun glared at the back of Damar's head, but chose to ignore his comment. The Founder entered and he hung on her every word.

"With the Breen at our side, the Federation will not be able to stand against us. They'll be erased from the face of the galaxy."

…

As he worked, his mind kept wandering back to the Trill. What was her name? Dax? From the little he had learned about her, he knew she had as many memories as he had, perhaps more...

He shook his head and concentrated on his work. But he realized he hadn't reviewed the information the Federation officers had offered to the Breen. He picked up a pad and immersed himself in Dax's memories.

An hour later, he was still reading feverishly, very confused and very engaged. His mind was full of her memories, from Lela, Tobin, Emony, Audrid, Torias. But Jorad, Curzon, Jadzia, and Ezri held his attention the most. The memories weren't always clear, but he read glimpses of these lives. Jorad's love of the kill was a constant pain for her, a primal urge she had to bury deep in her mind. He also found it fascinating that Curzon had shared Odo's body. Jadzia's memories were clearest in Ezri's mind, and he found it delicious that she was now sharing a cell with her former husband.

As he pondered these memories, a thought sprang into his mind which made him smile. The Dax symbiont and Weyoun had more in common than he realized. She was 300 years old, and he was around 250, though his body was younger than a year. And her body...

He felt a rush of heat as he thought about Ezri again, as he imagined tracing every curve, every line, every inch of her, feeling her soft skin beneath his fingers...Unbidden, desire for her rose up in his gut, and he revised their plans for interrogating the prisoners. They had planned on interrogating them together, but now Weyoun saw the...benefit of separating them.

…

He circled her, examining her body that glistened with sweat. Cardassia Prime was a rather hot and humid place, and it seemed to be taking its toll on the Trill. Her breathing was labored and heavy, and she was slumping in the chair.

"Let me take this opportunity to welcome you to Cardassia Prime. I trust you've been well-treated so far." He let out a little chuckle. "I've been looking over the information you supplied to the Breen, and the results are a bit...confusing-as mental probes so often are. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind sifting through the data and clarifying certain issues for us."

He had come around to her front to face her, and her eyebrows shot up in incredulity.

"You can't be serious," she muttered.

"I'm always serious," he countered, his expression shifting to one of grave solemnity. "You see, if you don't do as I ask, I'll have to hand you over to Legate Damar. And you know how ruthless Cardassians can be," he whispered into her ear, and she shrunk away. He smiled and continued. "I regret being the bearer of such sad news, but I'm afraid that you will be handed over to a Cardassian tribunal, where you will be tried as a war criminal."

"War criminal?" she shouted. "What are the charges?"

"You needn't concern yourself with that, my dear. All you have to know is that you will be found guilty and executed. However, if you should decide to join us in finding a quick end to this miserable war, your sentence will be reduced to life imprisonment."

"If you want to end the war, why don't you convince the Founders to surrender?" she said mockingly. He simply laughed and came forward.

"You know, my dear...it would be such a shame for you to die without the good Dr. Bashir knowing how you felt about him."

Her eyes widened in anger and she made to grab the PADD from him, but he simply lifted it out of her reach. He set it down on a nearby table and stood behind her. He leaned forward and gently whispered in her ear.

"What will it be, Ezri? Will you cooperate?"

"I would rather die," she spat back, twisting away from him. He laughed again, coming around and hauling her to her feet. He grasped her wrists with one hand and drew her body to his with the other.

"Very well. But I must admit, there are so many fascinating things about you, Dax. How does it feel to have such a great legacy pushed onto you, a mere girl of 21?"

She struggled against him, but he held her firm. "Let me go!" she screamed. A malicious smile graced his lips at that.

"You haven't answered my question, my dear." He lightly brushed her forehead with his lips, and she twitched away from his touch.

"What do you want from me?" she hissed. He gazed into her eyes and cocked a dark eyebrow.

"You'll see," he whispered back. He stared at her for a minute before continuing. "And then there's Jorad Dax. Jadzia buried his memories so deeply inside herself, but you've called him to the forefront of your mind on occasion, correct?"

Her eyes filled with shame. "I did what I had to do, and that's none of your business anyway."

"I've just made it my business. I want to know more about you, Ezri. I never realized how fascinating the life of a joined Trill is, until I met you. Would you care to tell me more?"

His face was very close to hers, their lips were inches apart. His hand still rested on her lower back, and he gently pressed her closer to him so that the length of their bodies touched. It exhilarated him.

She looked up at him in confusion, and before she could do anything, he covered her lips with his own.

Ezri whimpered and squirmed, but Weyoun held her tight against his body, and she could feel his want growing. His kiss was slow, exploratory, yet hungry and growing in passion by the second. He devoured her, letting his lips caress every inch of hers, and his tongue forced her mouth open.

She tried to retaliate by biting down on his tongue, but he was too quick for her. He retracted it before she could clamp her teeth down, and his low, rumbling laugh rang in her ears.

"That was cruel of you, Ezri. It would be so much more pleasant for both of us if you would cooperate," he murmured to her, tracing her lips with a pale finger. She struggled and tried to pull her wrists out of his terrible grip, but he simply held her even tighter until she cried out. His fingernails dug into the material of her shirt as he forced another kiss onto her. Ezri hissed into his mouth and managed to bite his lip so hard it bled.

He pulled away and squeezed her wrists again, and she whimpered. A single tear ran down her cheek as he pressed her wrist bone between his forefinger and thumb. Her knees nearly gave out as he retracted his hand from her lower back, and his gaze burned coldly into hers until she fell to her knees before him. Once he was satisfied that she was subdued for the moment, he yanked her arms behind her and held her back to his chest. He quickly licked away the blood that bloomed out of his busted lip and touched his mouth to her temple.

"I would suggest you stop trying to resist me, Ezri...or things could get very unpleasant for you."

She fought his grip and he laughed. "How would you like for that symbiont of yours to be removed from your body and tortured while you waited for death? How does that sound, Ezri?"

She stayed stock still at his words, and he murmured in satisfaction. "That's better," he whispered into her ear. He traced its outline with his tongue, causing her to gasp.

"Ah, you find that stimulating..." He did it again, and she hissed in irritation.

"Don't deny the joy of it, my dear," he whispered seductively, "give in to the pleasure of whatever sensations come to you."

"Why are you doing this?" she hissed back.

He chuckled. "Vorta are curious creatures, we love to learn. I've always had a fascination with mating rituals, but I've never had the opportunity to experience them for myself. If you cooperated, it might stay that way, but as you refuse to give me any information..."

He twisted her around to face him and laughed in perverted glee as her eyes widened in horror, but she quickly concealed her disgust beneath a stony mask.

"Tell me, Ezri," he murmured, his eyes flicking over her features, "how far down your body to these spots go?"

She stayed silent, and her expression was indifferent.

"Tell me, or I'll find out myself."

When she said nothing, he ripped her shirt off her body and threw it aside. She didn't resist or protest, simply stared at him with dead, uncaring eyes. It irritated him, but he ignored it for now. He reached out his hand and lightly traced a finger from her forehead to her ear, following the dark spots on her skin. She gasped, and he was pleased to see her stony mask had cracked. Ezri was visibly worried.

He laughed again. "I had no idea that was a sensitive area of your body, my dear! How delightful!" He leaned forward and brushed his lips to the line of spots, and she whimpered softly. A dark chuckle escaped his lips, and, closing his eyes, he parted his lips and let the tip of his tongue trace the spotted skin to her neck. Her loud moan was cut off by a sob, and he opened his eyes to see a tear trickle down her cheek.

He laughed and brushed it away, then returned to her neck to caress the spots there with his lips. Nothing could prevent her from moaning or crying, it seemed, as she did both as he became more forceful. He pulled away and examined her expression: her eyes were closed, as if trying to shut out the world, and her full, soft lips were parted as she took in air. He covered them and continued his exploration down her body, and her protests were weaker than before. He was pleased that she was beginning to relent to him, and he wondered how far he could push her before she closed up again. Weyoun continued to caress the spots, letting his deft fingers dance over her smooth skin. He stopped at the hem of her pants.

He cocked a dark eyebrow as her pants fell the ground with a soft rustle, and she looked at him with fearful, tear-filled eyes. He simply smiled and slipped a hand beneath the hem of her underwear.

His sensitive fingers knew the difference between her spots and the rest of her skin, and he found where he had left off. He traced the spots over her hips and down her thigh, and he laughed when he found where they ended.

"That far, Ezri? How interesting...does Dr. Bashir know they go to there? Has he ever touched you like this?"

She seemed to awake from a daze as she struggled against him, and he had to retract his hand to keep a good grip on her wrists.

"No matter what you do to the symbiont, it will die," she hissed, "so you might as well kill me now. I'm not going to help you."

"Such a pity," he murmured back with a grin. "I'm not going to kill you, my dear...at least not yet. You can stick around for a few weeks. I've hardly begun exploring you and your nature, and I can't wait to know more."

"You still won't get any information out of me."

He laughed. "You say that now, but in a little while...I've heard that Klingons are a hearty people. I wonder how much torture they can stand before they finally die. We can answer that question, Ezri, and you can watch while we do."

The triumphant gleam in her eye died and he laughed at his little victory. "I will give you until tomorrow morning to make up your mind. If you choose to cooperate, you will be sentenced to life imprisonment. But if you insist on being defiant, I will delay your trial for a few weeks, and after you watch the Klingon tortured to death, you will be my slave until you yourself are executed. It's your choice, Ezri. I expect an answer by tomorrow."

He threw her to the floor and strode out of the interrogation chamber.


End file.
